One of my heroes...

Most of the time before I begin to write, I sit for a few minutes, waiting…waiting…waiting…I am not sure where to start.  I probably say this everytime, but I wish I could tell all of the stories from the past few months.  Stories of hope and restoration and healing.  It has truly been amazing.  Many times over the past few months, I have sat down to write or wanted to and I just can’t. I never want to post something on here that is “just” a story.  I want it to speak to me.  I want it to touch me first.  I want it to make me cry.  I write because I hope that these stories inspire you to grow closer to the Lord and if they do not, than they are just words.   

As you grow closer to Him, you see people.  You see their needs. You see people’s sufferings.   I don’t desire to be praised for what I do or considered a hero.  I am not a hero.  I am simply someone that was chosen by God to live in Haiti and to help relieve the sufferings of people.  The older I get, the more I realize that the heart of God is with those that suffer and those that are broken.   His heart is with the woman dying in a hospital in Ouanaminthe, Haiti.  His heart is with the family that is struggling to survive in a tent city in Port-Au-Prince.  His heart is with a mother who is grieving the loss of her child.  His heart is with the family whose lives changed with one phone call.  His heart is with the person that is struggling with addiction.  His heart is with those that have turned away from God and turned towards the world.  To be honest, my heart is with them, too.  I’d rather spend my time with them…  

Throughout my journey, I have come across people who have become my heroes.   They will never make news headlines.   Their names will never be mentioned. They are not famous actors, actresses, or musicians.  They are not presidents or VPs of successful companies.  They are the ones for whom the verse was written, “The first shall be last and the last shall be first…”  Each time I come across these people, I am humbled.  Humbled that God would choose me to be His hands and His feet.   So, out of all the things I would love to share, I feel led to tell you about one of my heroes, Enmarie…

This past Saturday, 2 of our boys in the orphanage got word that their birth mother was sick in the local hospital.  They asked if they could go and I told them I would walk them there.  We walked into the hospital, trying to look for her.   There are only about 4 rooms in the hospital.  When I opened the door of one of them, I noticed that there was a lady in a bed in the corner of the room.  I could not see her face, but could tell she was skin and bones and breathing with difficulty.  I closed the door and we continued to look for the boys’ mother.  We were told she was discharged, so we began to walk out of the hospital, but I felt led to go back in the room to see the lady.  Brittany, my friend and missionary that works with us was with me.  We found out her name was Enmarie.  She was 39 years old and had 5 children.  She looked like she was end stage AIDS and could barely talk, but she grabbed our hands and tried to utter a few words every now and then.  Her sister was staying with her.  I noticed that her IV bag was almost empty.  I asked the sister if she had another one and she said no.  Why? No money. I asked her if she had any medicine.  She said the doctor gave them a prescription, but they had no money to purchase the medicine.  You see, at most hospitals in Haiti, especially our local one, you are responsible for purchasing your own medicine…IV bag, syringe, everything.  You have to bring your own sheets. You have to bring your own food.  If your IV bag runs out, it stays there…empty…until you go buy one.   I’ve seen this over and over again in the past 7.5 years I have been in Haiti and it still gets to me every time.  Its not fair.  People should not have to live like this.  Why was I born in a country that is required to give medical care whether you have one penny or not and Enmarie was born in a country where she lays there dying…????

To make a long story short, we bought her extra IV bags, medicine, and something to drink and eat.  We prayed with her and Brittany sang to her.  I asked her if she was saved and she said she was…she used to practice voo-doo, but realized it was not right, so accepted Christ.  She asked if she could come to our church the next day, since it was going to be Sunday.   She was so weak and we knew it was impossible to get her to church.  So, we brought church to her on Sunday morning.  A few of our missionaries, our Pastor, and several children from the orphanage all went to the hospital.  We had a church service and it was one of my most favorite memories.  One of our teenage girls, Ginette, prayed a powerful prayer over her.  What you need to know about Ginette is that her mother died of AIDS several years ago and Ginette took care of her until the day she died.  She has not forgotten where she came from and now…here she was…comforting a dying lady. 

When I left the hospital, I took Enmarie’s hand. She was going to go on an ambulance to another hospital 25 minutes away in Fort Liberte. She asked me to go with her.  I could not, but I told her I would try to visit her later.   That was the last time I saw her…she died a few hours later.   

I love watching how God goes to great lengths to show His love.  She could have easily died…alone…wondering if anyone besides her sister cared for her.  But he allowed us to take part in spending her last day on earth with her…in a “church” in a hospital.  He allowed a group of orphans to pray over her…ones that are familiar with suffering.  I felt so close to God when I was in her presence.   Being with her made me want to be more like Him and that is one of the reasons why she is my hero…

This is much more than a story. It is someone’s life.   A life of someone that I was privileged to know for 2 days.  If you read this and you draw closer to Jesus as a result, than it was worth writing……